


Savior

by LucindaRemyJohnson



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Happy Ending, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-14 11:51:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18475666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LucindaRemyJohnson/pseuds/LucindaRemyJohnson
Summary: "I don't know what I have to offer you, Granger. All I know is that whatever I have, it's yours." Three part Dramione set during the war. HEA. Lemons in the last chapter.Also on FF.





	1. Chapter 1

**HPOV**

"Not what you expected, Granger?"

My head shot up at the sound of Malfoy's voice. It had to have been a few days since I'd seen anyone. I'd been chained to a fancy piece of emerald green furniture - that I'm sure was expensive but was _certainly_ not comfortable.

Although it _was_ an improvement from the dungeons.

The house elf who had led me - magical bindings and all - up from the dungeon two stories into what I could only assume was a sitting room, had mercifully allowed me to wash up a bit. I could only assume whoever had wanted me up here had allowed him to do it, because it seemed doubtful that a house elf working for Malfoys' would dare step a toe out of line. Especially in times like these.

"I asked you a question."

I blinked, struggling to shake the blurriness of the crucio. It seemed like I got lost in thought quite often nowadays.

"It's better than sleeping on stones."

He cocked his head to the side, clearly studying me.

I had no idea what I looked like.

"You look like shit."

Apparently like shit.

"This isn't exactly a spa."

He looked like shit too, coincidentally. He was still as striking as ever, but the dark circles under his eyes and the slightly gaunt look to his face definitely showed that his side wasn't necessarily any better off than mine.

He glanced around the room before his eyes landed back on me, "Have they given you anything?"

I raised an eyebrow, "Does it look like it?"

At that he smirked, the first actual expression I'd seen so far, and said, "Watch it, Granger. Wouldn't want you to end up back in the cage."

"Why aren't I there now?"

Instead of answering me, he walked over to the aforementioned uncomfortable, fancy piece of furniture and sat down, pulling out his wand in the process.

I instantly tensed, shifting as far from the love seat as I possibly could given the chains, but he just pointed his wand at the table.

A glass of what looked like water and a bowl of some sort of steaming soup appeared in front of him and he motioned towards it, "Eat."

"No."

"Sit. And. Eat." he snapped, the chain around my neck pulling me closer to the table - but not too close, I noted.

"Why? What am I doing up here?" I asked, refusing to step any closer until I got some answers. He was still a Malfoy, and he stood there like the rest of them while Bellatrix tortured me.

He ran a hand through his hair and bit his lip before releasing a large sigh and leaning back against the couch.

"We don't have much time."

"Time for what?"

"Eat and I'll talk." he countered, motioning to the seat next to him.

Instead of taking the seat beside him, I chose the ground opposite him at the table. He smirked, but didn't comment on it.

I picked up the glass of water first, realizing just how thirsty I was - how long could the human body survive without water? I took a sip, and before I knew it I'd emptied the whole thing.

Malfoy looked pleased and began talking again, "Potter contacted me."

"What?" I'm sure my eyes were as wide as saucers.

"I guess Potter decided I was worth the risk." he said, eyes on the table.

"Worth what risk?"

"You're getting out of here. Soon, actually. They're pretty efficient in setting things up, it would seem."

"Who's they?" I asked, my foggy mind unable to keep up.

"Your friends, Granger. Potter told me how to help get you out." he said, eyes finally meeting mine again.

"Why would you want -"

"Just eat. We don't have a lot of time."

I did as he asked, more out of sheer hunger than wanting to please him - but that seemed irrelevant at this point.

"Come on, stand up." he said, motioning for me to hurry.

I stood slowly, my muscles were weak from how little I'd been moving for the past five...six weeks...I wasn't even sure how long I'd been here.

He pointed his wand at me, and for a moment my heart stopped, but just as quickly I felt the magical chains around my neck, arms, and ankles fall to the ground.

He extended his hand toward me, "Come on, we've got to go."

I tentatively stepped forward, still unsure of whether this was real or all some sort of cruel joke, but at this point, what more did I really have to lose?

* * *

**DPOV**

Her hand in mine felt frail - unbelievably frail compared to the strength she'd had when she'd hit me in the face in third year.

I didn't know why the fuck I was doing this. Helping _rescue_ Granger so she could go off and help Potter save the fucking world.

But that was it, wasn't it? She was going to help him fix this whole fucked up thing. She had to. I mean if the Brightest Witch of Our Age couldn't help the Golden Boy defeat Him, we were all fucked.

Potter had caught me while I was doing my rounds outside the Manor. I'd really questioned whether or not to just kill him and end it all, but did I really want Him to win?

So I hadn't. And we talked.

He offered me immunity under the Order if I helped get her back to them. I had no idea what that meant for my mother, or even for me. Who knew what the Order would and wouldn't let Potter dictate.

But I didn't like this. I didn't _want_ this. I'd grown to realize - particularly as Granger's blood spread across the cracks in the floor as Bellatrix tortured her - that muggles and muggle-borns weren't dirty. Their blood wasn't tainted. Her's was red. Just like mine.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked as we quietly made our way through the many winding halls of my former home. Potter had told me where we needed to go, a cottage in the middle of Nowhere, Scotland. It was warded by the smartest witches and wizards they had - apparently even Granger had contributed - and they used it as a safe place when being chased by Death Eaters. I just needed to get her there.

"Because I want this bloody war over with."

"Even if that means going to Azkaban?"

"I did what I did. If they decide Azkaban's how I pay for it...then so be it. We all deserve to rot there anyway."

She tugged my hand, pulling me to a stop - as if we had the bloody time for this - to say, "Why are you risking your life to get me out of here, Malfoy? Why are you really?"

Her eyes were unwavering, a stark contrast to her incredibly small frame. She definitely hadn't looked great when she, Potter, and the Weasel had gotten caught and brought in, but she looked about a hundred times worse now.

"I...we don't have time for this." I said, shaking my head. What did it matter what my reasons were? Stupid bint. She should be happy she was getting out of this hellhole today.

"Malfoy," she snapped, pulling me to a halt with more strength than I knew she still possessed, "Why are you doing this?"

"So you can help Potter, so maybe we don't all end up dead."

This seemed to appease her ever curious mind and she allowed me to pull her along. I was hoping that the almost excruciating pain in my arm meant that everyone else was gathered away from the front door. All we needed to be able to do was get far enough away from the Manor that I could apparate us both the fuck away from here.

She kept glancing at the Dark Mark, so I'm sure she realized something was going on, but thank Salazar she didn't ask.

As we rounded the corner I heard Bellatrix and my father, and quickly grabbed Granger, pulling her against my chest out of sight.

"...she have gone?"

"I don't know where the hell she's gone, or who the hell moved her, but _I want her back_. The Dark Lord will not be pleased if he hears the girl is missing. She's far too important." snapped my father.

At least it didn't seem like he suspected me at all.

I hoped that they wouldn't walk in our direction, and after a few tense minutes of further arguing between them, they left.

I became acutely aware that this was the closest I'd ever been to Granger in all the years that I'd known her.

We waited a moment longer until I was sure they had really gone, before pulling her with me towards the door.

Having made it outside was one thing, making it far enough away to actually make our escape...that was another thing entirely.

We'd made it about a quarter of a mile before Granger stumbled, almost hitting the ground, but I caught her.

"I'm sorry." she panted, trying to catch her breath.

It wasn't really her fault. I was surprised she could hold herself up, let alone run.

"We have to keep moving. We're close." I lied, lifting her into my arms. I was sure that even carrying her I could make it faster than if she kept trying to keep up with me.

Her eyes widened, but she didn't argue, instead wrapping her arms around my shoulders.

I was _really_ banking on everyone being at the meeting. I knew that He would notice that I wasn't there, but I didn't know if I was on his radar _enough_ for that to warrant too much inquiry. At least not this soon.

I hoped.

* * *

**HPOV**

I still didn't really fully grasp what was happening. One minute I went from having a collar around my neck to being _rescued_ by _Malfoy_.

I imagined the Order must have offered him something, otherwise there's no way he'd be taking this risk. It wouldn't make any sense.

He'd told me that we were going to a cottage in Scotland, one of the Order's safe houses, until Harry came for me - _us_. It was apparent that Malfoy was coming with me, whether he really wanted to or not was another matter entirely.

I wasn't sure if the Order would keep him out of Azkaban for this, but for some reason he was coming with me to make sure I wouldn't be attacked without a wand. Apparently they'd broken mine and tossed it. So I'd be out of one for a while.

It seemed strange to be headed to Scotland in the dead of winter, but I guess it was a good place. Who would want to be out in the middle of nowhere during a blizzard? No one should be that crazy.

But I supposed that's why it worked.

Just as we heard the sound of footsteps on hard dirt Malfoy let me down, whipped out his wand, and in a whirl we were standing in the middle of an incredibly cozy cottage.

I stepped back from Malfoy to look around the room we were in - living room. There was a comfy looking brown sofa across from a large fireplace that was already roaring. In front of the fireplace was a large fluffy white rug. On the opposite wall was a bookshelf filled with books, and next to those were a few games - chess, cards - nothing too exciting.

At least there were books, though.

The kitchen was to the left. It was small, but seemed to have all the things a kitchen needed - stove, sink, refrigerator.

Next to that was a small dining table, just big enough for two.

"There are probably clothes around here somewhere." said Malfoy, motioning towards the back of the cottage where I assumed the bedroom was.

"Okay...I'm going to take a shower."

He simply nodded and headed over to the bookshelf. I left him to it and wandered towards the bedroom. On the right there was a small bathroom with a toilet and sink, but slightly further down was the door to the bedroom.

The room was quaint, the bed big enough for two who were comfortable being a bit close, and a dresser that I hoped had some fresh clothes in them.

I pulled open the drawers, relieved to find a cozy sweater and a pair of sweatpants that I could wear after a nice shower.

How long had it been since I'd had a shower?

I pushed open the door to the adjoining bathroom and caught a look at my reflection for the first time in weeks.

I didn't even recognize myself.

My hair was matted and dirty, my under eye circles so purple they could've been black, and the sheer amount of weight I'd managed to lose in what I assumed was roughly six weeks was quite shocking.

I shook my head, turning away from the mirror to strip out of the tattered clothes I had on. Everyone looked better after a nice long shower.

I turned on the water and stepped in, turning so I could start with my hair. After a few minutes of untangling and quite a few curse words, my hair was smooth. After finishing up the shower I felt better than I had in weeks. And the soft, fluffy towels were definitely nicer than the rags I'd been wearing earlier.

After I dried off I got dressed and followed the smell of food out into the kitchen.

"What are you cooking?"

Malfoy had changed clothes as well. He was in a cream cashmere sweater with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows and a pair of oversized sweatpants that hung off his hips in a way that -

_Stop._

"Spaghetti. I figured everyone likes spaghetti." he said with a shrug, turning his attention back to the food.

"It smells amazing." I said, taking a seat at the table.

He made a muffled sound but didn't really respond. A few moments later he grabbed two bowls, filled them, and set them down on the table.

"Thank you."

"You're going to need to eat to get your strength back. You won't be any good to anyone otherwise." he said, digging in to the pasta.

I did the same, surprised by how good of a cook he was. Not that I'd ever admit that.

"What happens after Harry shows up here?" I asked, breaking the silence.

"You go heal up with the Order and then help Potter."

"What happens to _you_?"

He raised an eyebrow, "Nothing happens to me."

"What did the Order offer you?" I pressed, not buying it.

"Potter said they'd grant me immunity."

He didn't seem particularly excited about it, which was confusing. The Order was giving him the best deal he could get.

"So that's why you're doing it...you don't seem happy about it."

"They didn't say anything about my mother." he said, focusing on eating his food.

"Are you going to come with me?"

"With you and Potter?" he snorted, "Just because the Order _might_ give me immunity doesn't mean they want me playing on their side. They don't trust me."

"But they trust me. And you saved my life by getting me out of there. Let alone...you risked everything by helping us. The Order will see that. They're not as bad as you think." I said, meeting his gaze across the table.

He didn't say anything else, but the silence wasn't as awkward as it had been earlier.

After I finished he stood up, grabbing both bowls before I could, and brought them into the kitchen.

"Do you think they know you're gone?" I asked, sitting down on the couch by the fireplace.

I heard him rummaging around in the kitchen before he came out with two glasses and a bottle of Fire Whiskey.

"Depends. They obviously know I didn't respond to His call -"

"The Dark Mark." I said, glancing at his arm again. He shifted, moving so that I couldn't see it and I blushed, "I'm sorry."

"Since they know I didn't respond, they probably think something's up. Either I'm stuck somewhere and can't or I'm MIA...and with you gone, I'm sure it's only a matter of time before they put two and two together." he said with a shrug. "Until then, I guess we just assume we have enough time, or that you and your brainiac friends guarded this place well enough."

He handed me a glass of the Fire Whiskey before pouring one for himself. He knocked back about half of it in one go, and I couldn't really blame him.

It was hard to imagine how conflicted he must've felt. He really was risking his life and, in a way, betraying his family. Even if it _was_ for the right reasons. It was strange seeing Malfoy in such a different light. He almost seemed...human for it.

I didn't know how long I'd been lost in thought, but the slightly concerned look on his face let me know it must have been at least a few minutes. Instead of commenting on it, I just continued the conversation.

"Does this mean you don't want Him to win?"

He finally stopped looking at me like I was bound to shatter any second and said, "No, I don't want Him to win. Because I know what Him winning looks like."

I wondered how many Slytherins felt the same way but couldn't admit it. Certainly more than just him.

I took a sip of the Fire Whiskey, lost in thought for a while before he spoke up again.

"You look better."

"A shower works wonders." I joked lightly.

He poured himself another glass, a slight frown on his face.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked softly.

He glanced at me, opening his mouth once before shaking his head, "Hopefully it doesn't snow like this for too long."

"Why? _You_ managed to get us here."

He snorted, taking a sip of his drink before responding, "You're lucky we made it, never mind Potter."

"Harry's great at -"

"But I'm better and you know it." he said, shaking his head, "If I barely got us here, there's no way he has a chance. He'll likely end up bounced off into the middle of the blizzard if he tries."

I couldn't really argue with that.

"It's Scotland." I said with a shrug. I wasn't expecting a speedy rescue, that was for sure.

"I'm going to see if there are any blankets and set up camp on the couch." he said, setting his empty glass on the table to stand.

I nodded, knocking back the rest of my drink before refilling my glass.

I really didn't mind the thought of sharing a bed with Malfoy. The thought was ludicrous and uncalled for given the situation, but I couldn't help the thought. And it didn't hurt seeing that he was still as handsome as ever.

Before I knew it I felt myself reaching to refill my glass again.

It was fine. I had literally been _rescued_ today. I was owed a few drinks.

Malfoy returned, fluffy comforter and pillow in hand, dumping them on the far end of the couch before sitting down - closer to me this time.

He didn't seem bothered, reaching forward to refill his glass before taking a sip and leaning his head back against the couch. His eyes had closed, and I couldn't help but study him. He'd always been slightly fascinating.

His hair was so blonde that it was almost white, and it had oftentimes made me wonder if he had a bit of Veela in him. It seemed possible enough, what with his pure bloodline. His eyes, when open, were the strangest shade of grey I'd seen, and his nose thin and aristocratic, slightly upturned at everyone ninety-nine percent of the time. His cheekbones were unreal, sharp and angular like the rest of his face. He was almost _too_ perfect. His neck was smooth, meeting broad shoulders and toned arms. It seemed like he'd been doing a lot of hard work lately.

I tried to remember that if I let my mind wander too far, it was liable to leave me looking like an utterly broken idiot in front of Malfoy again, and I wasn't sure anyone should have to endure such a thing.

But I couldn't help wondering what he thought of me. I wondered why he'd decided to risk everything on the off chance that this would work. The Order could've very well granted him immunity, but I wasn't dumb. Voldemort wasn't losing. _We_ were. He had traded a team that was definitely winning for...well what? If he'd -

"Granger!"

I blinked, trying to clear myself of the ever-present fog I felt since Bellatrix had repeatedly crucio'd me.

"I'm sorry...what did you say?"

He studied me for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face before asking, "Where do you go when that happens?"

* * *

**DPOV**

I wasn't stupid. I knew that overexposure to the cruciatus curse could permanently break someone's mind. I'd witnessed it many times before, but for some reason seeing Granger as the one who was completely spaced out and lost was painful. Her mind was probably Potter's only hope at winning this war.

"Nowhere." she said with a shrug, "I just think too much sometimes."

Before I could say anything else, she was speaking again.

"I'm tired. I'm going to go to sleep. Goodnight, Malfoy. And thank you."

Without another word she disappeared into the back bedroom, the door shutting with a resounding click.

And then there was silence, the only sound the occasional crackling of the fire.

Moving so I was laying underneath the comforter I'd gotten, I stared up at the ceiling in thought.

It seemed pretty likely that the Order would come and rescue her soon. They'd have their healers fix whatever damage the crucio had done, and then she'd be able to help Potter. I didn't know much, but he'd told me she'd invented the most ingenious potions and spells - things that the Dark Lord never even dreamt of - but without her mind at full strength there was no telling what could happen.

But Voldemort wasn't an idiot. He had captured Granger, tortured her, because He knew that aside from Potter, she was the Order's best shot at winning. Her mind was brilliant. She was strong. Determined. Brave.

If He would've been able to break her, there's no telling the secrets He would've learned from that big brain of hers.

Suddenly my thoughts were interrupted by a shrill scream, the sound making my hair stand on end as I grabbed my wand and burst through the bedroom door.

Only no one else was there. It was just Granger, writhing around on the bed, eyes tightly closed.

_She was sleeping_.

"No, no, please stop." she murmured, her head thrashing from side to side.

It felt wrong to watch this. To watch her. She'd hate that I knew.

But somehow I couldn't tear myself away.

Instead I walked toward her, resting my hand on her forehead before murmuring a wandless spell - dreamless sleep. A moment later she stilled, her breathing evening out as she returned to what looked like a peaceful sleep.

I debated staying, making sure that she really was alright, but I couldn't bring myself to. It wasn't my place.

I walked back out into the living room, positive I wouldn't be able to sleep now - not that it was anything new. The stress of constantly waiting to be called on for some horrible task was too much to handle sometimes. You never knew when He would summon you or what'd you'd have to do.

The worst part was that He took pleasure in it. He loved seeing just how far He could push people before they would break. He'd done it with me, and He'd tried with Granger - only He hadn't been able to quite break her - at least not in any way that gave him information.

I could only hope that Potter and the Order would come through, because if they didn't, we were all fucked.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**DPOV**

When I opened my eyes it was to the smell of something burning.

I shot up just in time to hear a loud curse and the sound of something hitting the sink with a thud.

I leaned over the couch to see Granger in the kitchen, smoke billowing out of the now open window, as she rinsed something in the sink.

"What are you doing?" I asked, slightly bemused as I made my way into the kitchen.

Her eyes widened when she looked at me, cheeks tinted slightly pink in what I could only assume was either embarrassment or from the cold wind blowing in through the window.

"I...I was trying to cook breakfast. I'm not a very good cook, though." she admitted with a small frown, turning to shut the window.

"You could've just used magic." I said, leaning back against the counter as she attempted to unstick the burnt bacon from the pan.

" _You_ didn't have to use magic."

I couldn't help the smug smirk that made its way onto my face, "Has Hermione Granger finally found something that I'm better at?"

"Shut up." she said, but her words held none of their usual sting. I didn't want to think about why. She kept insisting that I'd saved her, but it was really all Potter's plan. I didn't deserve any amount of her gratitude. Not after everything I'd done. What I'd stood by and watched happen. There weren't enough Obliviation spells in the world that would erase the sight of her blood spreading across the Manor floor.

Not that I deserved to forget that, anyway.

"I'm sorry for waking you. You must be exhausted." she said, giving up on the pan and turning back to face me. "I'll just conjure up some breakfast and you can rest on the couch. It'll be ready in a few minutes."

Before I could say anything - like how _she_ was the one that'd been rescued _one week ago_ after three months in the Manor's dungeons - she had turned away and grabbed my wand.

I resigned myself to the living room as she'd asked, picking up a book as I went.

I'd only gotten a few pages in when she joined me, various plates and trays of food trailing after her.

"I didn't know what you like..." she trailed off, motioning to the plates as she sat next to me.

I didn't say anything, instead pouring the both of us a glass of orange juice before grabbing an assortment of things she had brought in. It was clearly way too much food for two people, but I didn't comment on it.

We ate quietly for several minutes before she broke the silence.

"Would you still be helping me if the Order hadn't offered you immunity?"

I was taken aback by her question, annoyed that she'd even ask. What gave her the right, anyway?

"None of your business, Granger."

She didn't seem put off by my curt response; in fact it seemed as though she'd expected it. She didn't push the question any further, instead finishing her breakfast. It was strange, but not uncomfortable, oddly enough.

She stood a few minutes later, moving into the kitchen and busying herself with the dishes.

I picked up the book I'd been reading and found myself lost in the words for quite some time. It was only when the sound of shattering glass reached my ears that I looked up and found Granger still in the kitchen, practically in the same spot I'd seen her at least half an hour ago.

She was facing away from me, seemingly staring out the window and making no move to clean the broken bits of glass from the floor.

"What are you doing?" I asked, walking into the kitchen and stopping behind her.

Again there was no response.

I stepped next to her and realized that she was gone again. Where ever she was, she didn't seem to have heard the drinking glass fall from her hands.

It made me wonder how badly the curse had really affected her mind.

And there it was again, that familiar pang of guilt when it came to her. I'd _watched_ them torture her on more than one occasion. Not by choice, but I had been there nonetheless. I should've done something - anything, but instead I stood by silently. A coward like the rest of them.

"Granger," I tried again, resting a hand on her shoulder and shaking gently.

Suddenly she blinked, slowly, then rapidly, before forcing a smile onto her face, "Sorry, I was just thinking..."

She stepped to the side, and before I could stop her she'd stepped onto a piece of glass. The crunch was unmistakable and the immediate look of pain was just confirmation.

"Shit!" she cursed, reaching out to grab the counter while hopping on one foot. Knowing she was likely too flustered and caught off guard to maintain that for long, I stepped forward and picked her up. Her slight yelp of surprise brought a small smirk to my face as I set her down on the couch.

"I'm such an idiot." she muttered, looking around for something.

"It was an accident." I said, spotting my wand in the kitchen. She said nothing as I returned with it, crouching down in front of her.

She lifted her foot from the table so that I could get a better look. I'd been hoping to pursue a career as a healer before the war, so I'd learned a bit about first aid. It was one of the only things He'd trusted me with after my fuck up with Dumbledore.

There was a small shard of glass in the ball of her foot, but it didn't seem like it had gone too deep.

"I'll cast a numbing charm and then -"

"No," she interrupted, shaking her head, "No spells, no charms. Just take it out and bandage it."

"Why?"

She glanced down at her slightly bleeding foot before looking back to me, "Sometimes...with the...episodes..." she cleared her throat and tried again, "It's nice to know that some parts of my body are still functioning as they should. It'll heal, because that's what bodies do. I just...need that reminder."

I didn't know what to say to that. It seemed as though she'd just bared a massive bit of her soul, and I had nothing of mine left to give her in return. It seemed unfair, really. I wished to find something - dug deep to try to dredge up some shred of myself that I could share with her, but came up with nothing.

So I said nothing. Instead moving to rummage around for some alcohol, bandages, and a rag.

When I returned she was staring at the wall, undoubtedly locked away in some far corner of her mind, though with a soft shake she was back.

I sat on the coffee table, lifting her foot to rest on my leg.

"This is probably going to pinch."

"I've been through worse." she said with a slight chuckle, lifting some of the tension around us.

For some reason I was hesitant to do anything to hurt her - ridiculous considering what I had let her be put through.

Before the unwavering silence could become overwhelming I placed one hand under the heel of her foot, lifting it slightly, while I brought the other hand up to grab the piece of glass.

I gave her credit, she'd tried not to make a sound, but the sharp intake of breath wasn't unnoticed. Before she could say anything, I cast a wandless spell, focusing my magic on the cut as I quickly slid the glass out.

"Oh," she said softly, "That wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be."

I was surprised that she hadn't noticed the spell. It didn't exactly bode well for the state of her mind.

I doused the cut with alcohol and wiped it clean, before wrapping it in the soft white gauze I'd found in the bathroom. Satisfied with my work I set her foot back on my leg and looked over to her.

She was already watching me, though, her eyes bright in that way I remembered from school - inquisitive...curious. She was curious about -

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

Her cheeks flushed immediately, obviously not expecting to be caught, and looked down at her foot.

"Thank you. Who knew you could be so gentle." she joked, a small smile playing across her face.

And Salazar only knew why, but I smiled back.

* * *

**HPOV**

It had been exactly two weeks since Malfoy had gotten me out of the Manor when we finally received a letter from Harry. I slid open the card, and his voice rang out around the room.

_I hope you're okay, Mione. We miss you so much, just know that. Please know that. We love you._

There was a slight pause, and my stomach dropped. This wasn't going to be good. What if someone else had died? Someone close? Ron? Luna? Ginny? Oh gods, what if they had lost? What if they had lost and we didn't know because we were so secluded from everything?

"...Hermione!"

I shook my head, trying to clear the fog. Malfoy was shouting at me. Shouting my name.

"Huh?"

"Start it over." was all he said, motioning to the letter on the table between us.

I did as he asked, listening to Harry repeat what I'd just heard, and then -

_We can't come get you. Not right now. It's too dangerous for you - both of you. Voldemort had a reason to keep you, Mione. You and I both know it. That mind of yours...it's too brilliant for him to have, and if that means we don't get to have it either...I'm willing to risk it. If anything ever happened to you...I can't lose anymore friends. I won't...Malfoy, I assume you're there as well...I'm trusting you with her life. Don't forget that. Be safe. The both of you. And I'll be in touch when I can._

The letter fluttered back down to the table, silence cloaking the room in an almost suffocating manner.

I was just expected to sit here and what? Wait out the war? Do _nothing_?

I felt sick. I needed air.

Before Malfoy could say anything regarding the letter I stood, pulling open the door and stepping out into what I'm sure must have been excruciatingly cold, wet snow - but for some reason I couldn't _feel_ anything.

I didn't stop. I made it at least five more steps into the blizzard before I felt him tugging me back.

No, no, no.

"Let me go!" I shouted, unable to even hear myself over the deafening roar of the wind.

He ignored me entirely, instead hauling me over his shoulder and jogging back to the cabin.

I was extremely aware that he was furious, but I couldn't really make out what he was saying.

"...freeze to death...fucking idiot...death wish..." I could only manage to grab onto a few words at a time, clinging to them like lifeboats until I could find another.

I wasn't cold.

But I said nothing as he pulled first my, then his clothes off, shoving me towards the fireplace. I wondered why he hadn't just cast a drying spell. The wand was...on the floor by the couch -

But when I glanced over it was nowhere to be found.

And then he was in front of me again, wrapping a blanket around me, though he was still stark naked and visibly shivering. Why?

I wasn't cold.

"...brilliant, stupid witch...fucking freezing..."

He was gone again.

_Harry wasn't coming_.

How could he just expect me to do nothing while our friends died around us? How many people was he willing to let die for me? What made _me_ so bloody important? So I had come up with some stupid sodding potions and some _stupid sodding spells_ and all of a sudden everyone thinks I'm the fucking Philosopher's -

Malfoy found his wand. Suddenly I was in a ridiculously over-sized sweater, thick sweatpants, and wool socks, still snuggly tucked in the blanket. He had seemingly done the same, and dried our hair.

I suppose I had been cold.

"Potter's only doing what he thinks is best for you."

I cleared my throat, hoping I could get a grip, "He's insane if he thinks I'm worth this risk."

"You do crazy things for the people you care about. Wouldn't you do the same thing if it were him? Isn't that exactly how you ended up at the Manor in the first place? You have a funny habit of taking other people's punishments."

I looked away from him, choosing instead to glare into the fire. Of course I would do the same for Harry. He was like family. I'd been protecting him since first year - how could he _possibly_ expect me to stop now, when he needed me most?

"How can he think I would ever want him to have to do this without me? I'm his best friend. I should be there _helping_ -"

"You heard him. The best thing you can do to help is not get caught. And it's not like he said it was permanent. He said 'for now'."

I relaxed slightly at his words. He was right, Harry hadn't said it was for the entire war. Maybe he just needed to figure out a plan. A better plan.

Because he was right. If Voldemort ever managed to break me, every Order secret there was would be His. Was it selfish of _me_ to want to risk that?

I didn't really know what to think.

"I'm sorry you were dragged into this." I said, managing to drag my gaze away from the fireplace and look at him, "You don't deserve to be holed up here with me, and you certainly shouldn't have to be cleaning up my messes." I said, motioning to our current position in front of the fireplace because of something stupid _I'd_ done.

"I didn't get dragged into anything." he said, shrugging it off, "I chose to be here. I'm choosing to be here. Like it or not Granger, you just might be stuck with me for a while."

"Besides," he continued, "You heard Potty. I've been entrusted with quite the important task."

The small smirk playing on his lips didn't go unnoticed, and I couldn't help cracking a smile back.

"How are we supposed to just sit around here? Stuck in this blizzard."

He snorted, "As if either of us really believes you won't find something interesting to do. There are plenty of books around here. Spells aplenty, potions abound..." he waved his hand in the air before taking a sip of the wine he'd poured us before opening the letter.

He was probably right, there were plenty of things I could read. Maybe I could even convince him to spar with me a bit so I didn't get too rusty. It had been a long time since I'd fought in hand to hand combat.

Though now probably wasn't the best time for any of that.

"Did you hear what I was saying to you? During?" he asked, the bright flames reflecting in his eyes.

I shook my head, "Only bits and pieces."

He seemed a bit relieved, but made no further comment. Instead he stood, offering me his hand to help me up.

"It's late. You should get some sleep."

The thought of laying in the dark silence of that bedroom by myself was almost too much to think about right now.

"Could I just stay out here with you? I'll lay on the floor or -"

"Come on." he sighed, turning away from me and heading to the bedroom. He left the lights off, instead pulling back the covers and holding his hand out in invitation.

"Well come on, Granger. I'm tired."

I found myself joining him, slipping beneath the warm blankets with ease. It was strange that I didn't feel odd having Malfoy lying next to me in bed. In fact, it was more comforting than seemed appropriate for how little we knew one another.

He seemed unbothered, tucking his hands behind his head and closing his eyes.

The light filtered in from outside the window, a dim glow across his right cheek, nose, left eye, and forehead. A small, thin strip of light amongst a room filled with darkness.

It was funny how comfortable he seemed. I would've expected him to be rigid. Tense.

But he wasn't.

"Go to sleep, Granger." he murmured, eyes never opening.

For once I decided to listen to him.

* * *

**DPOV**

Four more weeks had passed, and I'd learned quite a bit about Granger. Not just her habits - like her constant _bad_ attempts at cooking breakfast - or her small ticks - like scrunching up her nose when she read something she disagreed with - but I learned things about her past. Things she told me about. Dreams she had for the future.

It was strange. Being here with her was like being in our own little world. The war still existed, but it seemed so far away most of the time, that it hardly came up. It was less stress than I'd felt for the past two years.

Except when Potter would write. He'd asked her to try and come up with something that could help the Order. Their numbers were thinning - there were lots of deaths and even more who'd lost their minds. It was a ridiculous amount of pressure to put on her, particularly with the crucio after effects still affecting her.

She still got lost in her thoughts sometimes, though she never failed to snap out of it rather quickly when I spoke to her. I never really said anything about it, because at the very least, it didn't seem to be getting any worse.

"You know," I said, glancing over at her from my spot on the couch, the smell of burning fish filling the air, "I could teach you how to cook a few things. I think if I continue to smell all this burnt shite, my nose is going to be permanently ruined."

She rolled her eyes at my jab and retorted, "I don't need help."

I couldn't help the snort that escaped me, though she didn't look particularly amused as she tossed yet another ruined pan into the sink. She threw her arms up in what could only be described as utter frustration, but I was suddenly very aware of the small strip of skin the action uncovered. Just the smallest bit of her stomach, yet somehow it was all I could focus on.

It certainly hadn't escaped me that she was quite...attractive. Though it hadn't been an option to indulge in at Hogwarts, and now...well now it seemed even more futile than before.

But still, that small expanse of skin seemed to push all other thoughts away. Before I knew it I found myself staring at an empty space where she'd been standing. Now who was the one losing their mind?

"Do you want a drink?" I asked, moving to grab a bottle of wine from the fridge. "You can help me cook."

She nodded slowly, accepting the glass of Rosé with a small smile.

Instead of helping me, she leaned against the counter, "What would you do, if you could do anything?"

"What?" I turned to look at her, eyebrow raised, "What kind of question is that?"

"The kind you answer." she said with a shrug, downing half her wine in one go.

"Define anything."

"Like...anything. Anything not related to this war. Somewhere you'd like to go. Something you'd like to do." she said, watching me intently.

I thought over her question. What did I want to do? Being here with her like this, seeing how Bellatrix had wrecked her mind, it was hard to imagine wanting to be anywhere other than here, making sure she was ok.

I had promised Potter something the day he'd sought me out. I'd promised him that I'd protect her with my life. If Voldemort ever got her - the secrets this witch new could burn the entire Order to the ground. Potter was right when he'd said it was too dangerous for her to be out there. She'd been caught once, there was no guarantee that she couldn't be caught again.

"We could go to Switzerland. The mountains are beautiful around this time of year. And you said you wanted to learn to ski." I said absentmindedly, adding a few ingredients to the pot on the stove.

It took me a moment to realize she hadn't said anything, instead she was staring at me, mouth slightly open.

"We?"

"Huh?"

"You said we." she repeated, "We could go to Switzerland."

I shrugged, trying to play it down, "It was the first thing that came to mind. It's not as though there are many people left alive willing to spare me the time of day at this point, Granger."

Something flickered across her eyes, but before I could discern what it was, it was gone.

"I would like to ski." she agreed, "I'm sure the view is amazing."

"It's certainly something to see." I murmured, studying her under my lashes as I finished up the soup.

She was fidgeting with the stem of her wine glass, eyes darting from the glass, to me, back to the glass. She was biting her lip, and I would've loved to know what she was thinking about.

But I was worried she might slip away again, so I started talking, "This just needs to simmer for half an hour, and then it'll be ready."

She nodded, still worrying her lip between her teeth. I wasn't sure what to do, so I stepped forward, placing my thumb on her chin, freeing her lip from her teeth.

Her eyes were wide as she stared up at me, and she was so close I could've kissed her. I wanted to. I didn't want to think about why, or what it meant, I just knew that I did.

And the moment was perfect. She was pressed against the counter, cheeks flushed, eyes wide - that unruly mess of hair spiraling out around her like a goddamn halo -

_Fucking hell_ , why did she have to be so bloody perfect?

Instead I stepped back, refilling her wine glass before handing it to her, "Come on, you said you'd tell me about the new potion you thought up."

As usual, I didn't wait for her to follow, just knew that she would. And as usual, she took her spot beside me.

"I don't know if this would work." she said, fidgeting with the hem of the sweater she wore, "I get lost sometimes and don't quite remember -"

She cleared her throat, clearly uncomfortable, but continued, "There are so many people Voldemort tortured and then just...just dumped somewhere. The Order always went and got them, but nothing could ever be done. Their minds were too far gone."

I nodded, I'd seen Longbottom babbling about his precious flowers before being ripped to shreds. He hadn't even known where he was. There seemed to be no limit to the damage the Unforgivables could do.

"But what if...what if you could build a wall?"

"A wall?"

She nodded, her eyes slowly getting brighter as excitement began to overtake her, "If I could perfect a potion, something like an obliviation spell but less intense. If there were a way to sequester the memories of their torture, maybe the healers' other potions would work. Maybe then they could get better."

"You'd take people's memories?"

She shook her head, "No, no of course not! It'd be like...putting them in a box. Instead of having to deal with every bit of torture you'd been subjected to, you could - with the help of a healer - slowly pick apart those memories one at a time."

"So they'd be less likely to break."

She nodded excitedly at my understanding, "What do you think?"

"Is it possible?"

She snorted, "Anything's possible. That doesn't mean it's going to be easy."

"Well you should be used to that by now, Granger."

"Fair enough." she nodded, "I'll have to see what books we have here."

I couldn't lie, it was a relief that she seemed excited about something. She hardly ever had a spark in her eye about anything anymore.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

I had lost track of the number of drinks I'd had, and Granger seemed no more aware of it than I was.

After dinner we'd bounced ideas back and forth about the potion, and one drink had turned into many and...well here we were.

"What would you do, if you could do anything?" I asked, remembering her question from earlier.

Her eyes held mine for what seemed like an eternity before she said, "I would kiss you."

A slight blush did spread across her cheeks, but she didn't seem embarrassed. The alcohol seemed to have given her back some of that Gryffindor courage.

"Kiss me?" I repeated, not sure what I should say to that. She was drunk. I was drunk. She'd regret anything that happened between us.

"I would." she nodded, "I would kiss you and hope that you got the hint."

I tried to swallow the suspicious lump that had just formed in my throat, forcing it down so I could choke out, "You're drunk."

"Not that drunk." she said with a shrug, looking away from me. She was frowning slightly. What was I supposed to say to a confession like that?

I had no right to indulge in thoughts like kissing Granger. Wanting Granger. _Obsessing_ over Granger. She was so much better than I could ever hope to be. The only thing I would ever do is drag her down further. That, if nothing else, had become apparent over the past few weeks that we'd spent here.

The truth was, I wasn't worth her time. My family had fractured her mind. I had _watched_ it happen. How could she possibly want anything to do with me after that? This had to have been another side effect of the curse.

"I think it's time for you to go to bed." I said, changing the subject.

She rolled her eyes and leaned back, "You're just too chicken to admit that you think I'm attractive. Probably crazy, but definitely attractive. Why don't you just shag me like you did those other girls at Hogwarts?"

My eyes widened at the bluntness of her question.

"You...you're drunk."

"And if I wasn't?"

"If you weren't you wouldn't be saying any of this." I said, taking the glass from her and sending it to the kitchen.

She shook her head, apparently unbothered by the sudden loss of her drink, "And if I was?" she pressed.

"For Salazar's sake, Granger! If you weren't bloody drunk I'd kiss you back. Is that what you want to hear?"

Before she could say anything I disappeared into the bathroom. I needed a long, _hot_ shower to calm my racing heart. It felt as though it was about to pound out of my chest if I couldn't get it under control.

The thought of her actually having any of those thoughts about me was enough to create some small glimmer of hope -

Fucking hell, I bloody wanted her.

I didn't know how long I stood under the steady stream of water, but by the time I got out it ran cold.

When I emerged from the bathroom I found her sprawled out across the bed, her breathing slow and even as she slept.

Why did she have to be so perfect?

I stood in the doorway of the room for longer than was probably appropriate before slowly sliding into bed beside her. Her body was warm. Familiar. I'd been here for six weeks straight at this point.

And on the rare, rare occasion, she would put her head on my chest and listen to my heartbeat. She'd once said the steady rhythm helped her sleep.

What was she thinking? Confessing to something like that. She didn't even know me.

Though I had shared more with her over the past few weeks then I had with any of my friends.

I forced myself not to groan audibly. This wasn't supposed to be complicated. I was keeping an eye out for her for Potter. Until he could do it himself. Because I'd promised.

But the more I'd learned about the witch, the more I'd come to actually enjoy her presence. Her conversation.

She really was brilliant. She had an answer for almost anything I asked her, and if she didn't she'd spend countless hours sifting through the seemingly endless supply of books to find it.

And when she inevitably did, she'd present all her information, a proud glint to her eye.

That was really the only reason I kept asking. She would be focused. She didn't space out. And then she just talked. Told me what she'd learned, what she thought was shite - and I could just sit and listen to her talk.

Why would she complicate everything by admitting something like that?

She was just drunk. And probably lonely. Salazar knew she'd spent weeks in a dungeon without any human contact. She was probably just confused.

And suddenly her eyes were open, still slightly dazed from sleep, as she looked at me.

"I thought you were going to sleep on the couch." she murmured, attempting to shift away from me to give me space.

For whatever reason I stopped her, tugging her over so her head rested on my chest. My hand found her waist easily, and it was almost painful how simple it seemed. How simple it felt to do this with her.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**HPOV**

"Damnit!"

That was my sixth attempt at the potion, and this one had just about blown a hole through the roof. I didn't know what I was missing. I'd combed through what felt like _hundreds_ of books, and still nothing.

Malfoy was in the kitchen in an instant, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." I snapped, practically ripping the gloves from my hands and flinging them onto the counter. "This is a waste of time. It's never going to work."

He raised a blonde eyebrow at me, "Seriously? You're giving up this quickly? You're the one who said anything was possible."

"I don't know where else to look, what else to read."

"So take a break." he said with a smirk, "If there's anything I learned from school, it's that things always look better from a fresh perspective."

"I think that's called procrastination."

He rolled his eyes, "You're no good to anyone if you can't think straight. Take a break."

He was probably right. I'd spent the past month trying different potions, each of them resulting in either explosions or absolutely _nothing._ Those seemed the most disappointing, really.

"You're right." I sighed, resigned.

We sat in the living room in comfortable silence while he read, and I thought.

We hadn't heard from Harry in over a month. I had no idea where he was, what he was doing, or if he was even still alive. If he died...there was no hope for any of us. But I couldn't think like that. He was alive. He had to be.

I'd promised him I'd figure out a way to help them.

Malfoy never seemed to doubt that Harry would win, though. I mean he practically bet his life on it. If Harry lost, he'd be just as fucked as me. Maybe worse.

Why he'd ever agree to something like this was beyond me. Why had he chosen this?

But I couldn't bring myself to ask him.

Part of me was worried that if I brought it up he'd realize that he really _was_ making a mistake...and for some reason I'd grown accustom to his presence. I appreciated it. Honestly I had no idea if I'd be able to do this without him.

Shite. I hadn't been paying attention. I looked over to Malfoy, who was of course already looking at me.

"And she's back." he said with a smile, "Here, I found something that might help."

I could kiss him for not dwelling on my weird spells. It just made things...easier.

I took the book he was handing me, hoping to get my mind off him.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

This was the first potion that hadn't exploded.

Was it possible that after three _tedious_ months of working, I'd actually done it?

"Malfoy," I called out.

I knew he was never far when I was brewing.

He stepped into the kitchen, eyeing the pot and then me before a small smile worked its way onto his face.

"You bloody did it, didn't you?"

I nodded slowly, unsure, "I...maybe. It seems right. There's no real way to know until it's tested."

He looked a bit apprehensive, "What if something goes wrong?"

"I made an antidote." I said with an eye roll. "I'm not daft. Besides," I explained, pouring the blue liquid into a small vial before doing the same with the antidote, "If this works, it could change everything."

I stared at the vial for a moment longer before lifting it to my lips.

"Bottoms up."

The potion tasted like apples, strangely enough.

"How do you feel, Granger?" asked Malfoy, eyeing me studiously. His silver eyes flitted over my face in an obvious attempt to see if I was going to implode.

How _did_ I feel?

Fine. The same, really.

I took a deep breath and made myself think. Think back to the dungeon I knew I'd been kept in, the torture I knew I'd been put through...

And came up with nothing.

_Nothing_.

I knew I'd been captured, tortured, but not a single bit of it remained in my mind.

_Not a single bit._

A slow smile began to spread across my face, and no sooner than that I was enveloped by him. His arms were wrapped around my waist and mine instinctively went to his neck, returning the hug as he spun us once.

"You bloody did it, you brilliant witch. You bloody did it." he said, his voice holding a tone of awe I'd never had directed at me - not by him.

And it felt _nice_. His strong arms around me felt _nice_. And he was so close. Our bodies were pressed together practically _everywhere,_ and I couldn't help the slight eruption of butterflies at the proximity.

But it was nice.

_Very nice._

He set me down, his face still only inches from mine as he looked down at me, arms still around my waist.

Why were mine still around his neck?

"I couldn't have done it without you." I said softly, trying not to break whatever weird bubble we were in.

His smile was small as he shook his head, "You're the brains behind this one, Granger."

I didn't know what to say. He was just staring at me.

"What would you do, if you could do anything?" he asked softly, his eyes flicking to my lips briefly.

_Gods._

Why had I ever opened my big, fat mouth and told him that. It had been a few weeks since the _mortifying_ experience had occurred, and he hadn't so much as brought it up once.

But now? Here?

Why was he doing this?

"I...I don't...I -"

"Because I'd kiss you." he whispered softly.

And then he was.

His lips were soft and feathery light as he kissed me. It was a sharp contrast to the dominating way I'd assumed he would. But it didn't matter, this side of him was one I hadn't really seen, and I couldn't deny it had it's own appeal.

He slid one hand to my cheek, pulling away to murmur against my lips softly, "I would kiss you over and over. I'd let my hands - my _mouth_ \- explore every bit of your skin. I would kiss you _everywhere_ , Granger."

The deep rumble in his voice and the sensual nature of his tone had my stomach clenching. Who would've thought Malfoy would ever willingly touch me - _kiss_ me -

My mind was spinning. His scent was intoxicating. His words washed over me in a delicious way.

I wanted him to continue.

* * *

**DPOV**

There was no way I could keep ignoring these feelings. If I were being honest with myself, I didn't _want_ to ignore them.

She felt perfect in my arms, her small frame crowded by my much larger one. Her accelerated breathing and flushed cheeks also didn't go unnoticed.

Nor did the fact that she wasn't yelling at me. She wasn't pulling away. She didn't look upset or annoyed - no. She looked...

Like she wanted me.

"I would touch you, tease you, until you _begged_ me for release. And I'd give it to you." I continued, kissing and nipping at her neck. I didn't know if it was my words or my actions, but she let out a soft moan, the sound going straight to my cock.

_Gods, I wanted her._

"I'd give it to you again and again until you forgot your bloody name."

Her breath hitched and the hands she had in my hair tightened. The sting felt good.

I slid my hand under her sweater, moving up to cup her full breasts. Her nipples were already digging into the palm of my hand. She was as turned on as I was.

She _wanted_ this.

I took a moment to flick her nipples between my fingers, tugging and flicking, before replacing my hands with my mouth.

"Oh, Merlin..." she murmured, one hand resting on my shoulder, the other tangled in my hair grabbing slightly tighter whenever I gave her nipple a particularly rough nip.

Slowly tearing my mouth away from her breasts, I continued, "I would fuck that pretty little pussy of yours."

She gasped as I slid my hand into her pants, the only thing covering her wet cunt was a thin scrap of lacy fabric.

It felt like torture. Beautiful, glorious, _mind numbing_ torture.

I lightly traced my middle finger over her clit, "I would fuck you until you couldn't take it anymore, and then I'd fuck you again."

She tried bucking closer to my hand to increase the friction, but I simply pushed her back against the counter.

"I would pound into this wet little cunt until you _shattered_ around me. And then I'd do it all over again."

I slid my hand into her panties and found her soaked. I shut my eyes and fought against the urge to spin her around and fuck her into the counter.

But I was pacing myself. I had no idea how far she was going to let this go, and I was determined to savor every second of it.

I dipped a finger into her impossibly tight, wet pussy, enjoying the drawn out moan that seemed wrenched from her throat. I arched my finger up, maintaining a steady pace as I caught her lips in another kiss.

It wasn't long before she was writhing against my hand, her once soft breathing had turned into moans and pants.

"Fucking hell, you're so wet for me." I groaned against her neck.

"Malfoy," she gasped, her walls beginning to flutter around my finger, "Please don't stop."

I chuckled, "I don't recall saying anything about stopping."

It wasn't long after I dipped a second finger into her, that she was coming undone, her tight quim pulsing around my fingers as her essence dripped over my fingers and down her legs.

Watching Hermione Granger lose herself was hypnotizing. _I_ had done that.

She was bloody beautiful.

I wasted no time in setting her on the counter, and she spread her legs so I could step between them. She made quick work of my belt and trousers, shoving both from my hips, the boxers close behind.

Before I could say or do anything, not that I would've known what, she took my hard cock into her hand and began pumping me up and down.

She tightened her grip, speeding up slightly, and when I couldn't stop the moan from leaving my lips she was already watching me and smirking.

No, that wouldn't do.

I took her hand in mine, using my free hand to rub my throbbing member along her clit.

Her head tilted back, smacking against the cabinets, but she didn't seem to notice. Her eyes were scrunched closed in pleasure and there was no mistaking the slow rocking of her hips.

"Tell me you want this." I murmured against her ear, not stopping my ministrations.

She moaned, her eyes fluttering open to meet mine. They were bright and dilated and fuck if she didn't look like the most delicious thing I'd ever seen.

"Tell me." I repeated, firmer this time.

She nodded rather frantically, her voice breathy, "I want this. Please don't stop."

That was really all I needed.

I pushed forward into her inviting heat, unable to contain my rather guttural reaction.

" _Fuck_ ," I cursed, my grip on her waist surely bruising, "You feel bloody brilliant."

"So do you." she admitted, her eyes shut and her nails digging into my shoulders as I slowly began thrusting.

No fantasy I'd ever had even compared to how fucking _fantastic_ she was. Being inside her was -

"Brilliant, bloody brilliant." I murmured against her mouth before capturing her lips in another kiss.

Her nails were digging into my back, pulling me impossibly closer to her as she said, "Faster...please faster."

How could I say no to her?

I tugged her forward, sliding my hands under her lush arse as I lifted her from the counter and pressed her into the wall opposite us. I didn't give her any time to get her bearings, instead pounding into her.

"Oh gods," she moaned, her head dropping forward onto my shoulder as she clung to me, "I'm going to...Malfoy..."

And then she was coming. Moaning _my_ name as she shattered around me.

I had to focus on something else, anything else, to prevent myself from coming before I had the chance to prove just how serious I'd been about what I'd said.

She was panting against my neck, her tight cunt still lightly spasming around me, as I continued the slow rhythm I'd set.

"Tell me something, love." I said, moving one hand from her bum to her hair, grabbing a handful of it and tugging down, forcing her head up from my shoulder so she was looking at me, "How does it feel?"

And though I had her pinned against the wall, held by her hair, and was _literally_ fucking her, her eyes lit up with that fiery spark I was used to seeing back in school.

"You know exactly how it feels. Just shut up."

I smirked, thrusting forward particularly roughly, "True, I do know." I leaned forward, dragging my teeth along her neck before stopping to murmur against her ear, "You're just _dying_ to come again. You're so tight...so wet."

She moaned, her hips wriggling against mine in an attempt to speed up my thrusts. "Malfoy, shut - _oh_ \- up."

"Why would I do that?" I asked, releasing her hair to lightly tease her clit. "You're positively dripping from it."

She clenched around me in response, and it took all the self control I had to keep myself from giving her exactly what she wanted. Not yet.

"Would you like to come again?" I asked, rubbing her bud slightly harder.

She moaned, looking up at the ceiling as she shook her head, "I don't think...I've never... _fuck_ -"

"Never what, love?" I teased, slowing the fingers on her clit.

Her cheeks were red, her lips swollen, and her hair was an absolute mess, yet somehow it only made me want her more. As if such a thing were even possible at this point.

"Never came more than once with...with someone."

I couldn't help but smirk, "I suppose you'll just have to deal with it."

Without waiting for her retort, I picked up my pace, slamming into her while my fingers resumed toying with her clit.

She was begging. And by Salazar her voice, lust-filled, breathy, soft - it was everything.

Her climax caught me by surprise this time. It was sudden, her moans echoing off the walls and I couldn't stop myself. I hurtled right over the edge with her, white light exploding behind my eyes.

This was bliss.

* * *

**HPOV**

He moved first.

That much I could register.

He set me down, taking a half step back, and I slid down the wall. My legs were jelly.

"Granger -"

"Never in my life have I been so thoroughly fucked."

The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. Panicked, I looked up at him, surely as red as Ron's hair. But he seemed, if nothing else, smug.

"Good." was his only response.

I watched as he grabbed his boxers, pants, and shirt but made no move to put them on. Instead he walked back over to where I was sitting.

"Are your legs working, Granger?" he asked with a smirk, blonde hair hanging in his eyes as he looked down at me.

It was a good question, actually. I doubted it. The way Malfoy had been able to -

Merlin, no one had _ever_ even come _close_ to his mastery of my body. He really should teach lessons. More men should know how to -

"What are you doing?" I shrieked, suddenly hanging upside down, my naked bum in the air as Malfoy carried me over his shoulder and back towards the bedroom.

"You didn't answer me." he said simply, "Now stop wiggling."

I did no such thing, instead opting to attempt tickling him.

_Smack_!

"I told you to stop." he said, the smirk evident in his voice.

"You just...you just... _spanked_ me!" I said, incredulous.

"Trust me, Granger, if I really spanked you, you wouldn't be sitting on this pretty little bum for days."

_Gods._

It really wasn't fair how he could just flip a switch like that and utter such...such... _naughty_ things.

He dropped me onto the bed but made no move to join me, instead standing at the foot of the bed _staring_ at me.

I felt subconscious. I was still completely naked.

"Stop looking at me like that."

His eyes met mine, and maybe I was completely loony, but there was _something_ there.

He smirked, but joined me, pulling the covers up around the both of us before he said anything.

"You should send your Patronus to Potter. Tell him the news."

"What?"

"The potion?" His perfectly arched eyebrow was raised and he was clearly amused. "I'm sure Potter will be happy to know you figured it out."

Right.

Harry. The potion.

How could he be thinking of anything other than what had just happened between us?

"I'll use your wand tomorrow. I'm sure he'll be glad to hear we have good news for once."

I turned on my side so I was facing him, though I was sure to leave a space between us. If he wasn't going to talk about what _it_ meant, then neither was I.

His eye roll was almost audible as he released a long, classic Malfoy sigh, before tugging me against his chest.

"Goodnight, Granger." he murmured into my hair. His arm was around my waist and I could hear the beating of his heart under my ear. I had fallen asleep like this many times over the months we'd been here, so it was strikingly obvious that the beat was slightly faster than usual.

Was he nervous? Tense?

Would he tell me if I asked?

He was tracing soft patterns onto my back, his heartbeat slowing with each passing moment. Soon enough it was as I knew it, the sound slowly lulling me to sleep. I was exhausted.

But then he was talking, so softly that I almost didn't catch it.

"You are the most frustrating, elusive, complex... _beautiful_ puzzle of a woman. I don't..." he took a deep breath, and I didn't dare move an inch.

"I don't know why," he continued, "You just are. You're brilliant, really."

"Malf -"

"When you told me why you didn't want magic to heal yourself...I wished that there was some piece of myself that I could give you in return. I wanted it _so fucking badly_ , but there was nothing. But then you kept doing it. You kept giving me little pieces of yourself and then -" he cleared his throat abruptly, taking a moment to compose himself.

"I don't know what I have to offer you, Granger. All I know is that whatever I have, it's yours."

My heart felt as though it had exploded. His words were...everything I'd wanted to hear, if I were honest with myself.

I reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly as I whispered back to him through the darkness.

"You're enough. Just you."


End file.
